It Gets Better
by for always forever
Summary: "The fame and crap? I don't care. This man? He's all I need. I'm not talking about the platinum records or whatever when I tell you that it gets better." Kurt and Blaine  make an It Gets Better video and fail terribly. Now with bonus Brittana chapter!
1. Blaine & Kurt

**Author's Note**: okay, so in my mind? blaine anderson is a dork. a big gorgeous dork. and kurt hummel is extremely fond of his nerdiness. and he's also a famous singer! because i felt like it. so they make an 'it gets better' video. because i just love the idea. i really do. i love how this turned out, too. if you review you can have a blaine. if you can steal him from kurt.

**disclaimer: **please don't sue me. i'm only in high school. glee belongs to whoever, the it gets better project belongs to whoever, and blaine belongs to kurt. because he's a puppy. kbye.

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><p>"Is it on? I can't see anything!"<p>

"Blaine. _Blaine_. The cap is still on."

"What?"

"Babe, the _cap_. See the black thing over the camera lens? You're supposed to take it _off_."

"Well, if you insist…"

"Keep your shirt on, Blaine Anderson. There are children in this park."

"Well, _yeah_. It's a park, dear."

"Take the cap off, now."

"You're so hot when you're angry."

Someone sighs. There's the sound of shuffling and the scraping of fingers against plastic—"You push the little buttons in, and then…oh god, just give it to me. I'm engaged to an idiot,"—and finally the screen comes to life. Even though the only thing seen is concrete. The camera shifts and curly haired man with bright pink sunglasses perched on his head is shoved into the shot. He smiles winningly and winks.

"_Blaine, _give me the camera," one of the voices from before snips from off to the side, "I don't trust you with my valuables."

Blaine pouts, and there's an indignant shriek as the camera is thrown back to its owner. It seems like he barely manages to catch it, because the camera shot is showing an upside down tree.

The camera is righted, and then turned towards the face of an annoyed looking man before he smiles at the camera and waves. His cheeks are flushed and his hair is a little messy. He takes a second to flip the little screen towards him and fixes his hair in a way that makes Blaine laugh. Kurt makes another face. "We're making this video to—"

"You didn't let me introduce myself!" Blaine's voice whines. Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes at the camera before spinning it around to show the other man. Blaine's frown disappears immediately and he grins charmingly. "I'm Blaine Anderson. But a bunch of you probably know that. I'm in like, a lot of magazines and stuff because I'm kind of famous. World famous singer and whatnot. But it's no big deal." Blaine winks dramatically.

Kurt stifles a laugh and tries to sound disapproving when he says, "Yes, and I'm his fiancé. You know, the girly looking one who sits next to him at award shows—"

"The love of my entire _life_, Kurt Hummel, soon to be Hummel-Anderson," Blaine interrupts with a winning smile.

"—hey, why do I have to hyphenate _my_ last name?"

"—rising Broadway star and also the owner of his very own fashion line, perhaps you've heard of him?" Blaine continues like Kurt never interrupted him.

"Nice save, Anderson," Kurt says, and behind the camera he's raising his eyebrows.

Blaine takes another breath and says, "Also, you have to hyphenate _your_ last name because I'm a well-known figure in American pop culture and we don't wanna confuse people. Plus you say things like hyphenate."

"Kind of like you just did," Kurt points out dryly. Blaine frowns.

"Damn, you're good," he says, impressed, and he takes the camera out of Kurt's hands. He turns it on him and says, "So tell us your awe-inspiring story, Kurt Hummel-soon-to-be-Anderson." Kurt rolls his eyes and opens his mouth, but Blaine turns the camera on himself and stage-whispers, "This man is my _hero_." He looks at something off the screen and hastily adds, "Okay, okay, sorry, go ahead." He grins sheepishly and the shot falls on Kurt.

Kurt's smiling a little bit fondly. "Okay, so, long story short? Life sucked. I was living in a small town in _Ohio_ of all places, and small towns tend to be really close minded. I was tormented every day. Dumpster tosses, slushy facials; you name it and it probably happened to me. I joined my high school glee club and things got better. I finally had friends, best friends—we all still talk, by the way, and we see each other whenever we can. Things were okay for a while. I was lucky enough to have a dad who was and is really accepting. Loves me no matter what, like a parent should. And when my dad married my stepmom, Carole, well. She's just amazing. And my stepbrother Finn, who is for all intents and purposes my brother. Things with him were a little rocky at first, considering I had a huge crush on him my sophomore year," Blaine scoffs and the camera shakes as he laughs, "Yeah, I know, shut up. I obviously don't have great taste."

Blaine silences. Kurt laughs loudly. "Ok, ok, I'm sorry. You know I love you, darling."

"I'm not so sure now," Blaine sniffs, and Kurt rolls his eyes. "Go ahead, continue sharing your heartbreaking journey with the world and leave me with my misery."

"Fine," Kurt says, raising both eyebrows in a very convincing _bitch, please_ look, "My junior year came and this total _douchebag_ made it his mission make my life a living hell. It worked, too. The thing was, he was _gay_. And so far in the closet he ended up in Narnia." Blaine snorts loudly, "Took all his pent up angst out on me. He kissed me and then threatened to kill me if I told anyone." Blaine stops laughing.

"I transferred to a private school, which I'd discovered after my friends sent me to spy on their glee club. That's when I met Blaine. He inadvertently made me fall in love with him by singing _Katy Perry_. I'm still ashamed."

"Katy Perry is amazing."

"Shut up, Blaine. He was so adorably _stupid_ and actually tried to convince himself he was bisexual when he drunkenly made out with my friend Rachel—who's now my sister-in-law, ironically. Totally clueless. The only thing worse than loving a straight guy? Loving a gay kid who's oblivious to everything."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You were, dear. You really were. Seriously."

"Okay, okay, but I came to my senses, obviously. When you were singing _Blackbird_. And then I was just like BAM; epiphany." Blaine defends himself.

"So we got together," Kurt continues, ignoring him with an odd smile on his face, "And it was so cheesy. He said something like, _there's a time when you look at a person and say 'I've been looking for you._' It was absolutely adorable. And eventually I transferred back to McKinley as a part of my friend Santana's stupid prom queen campaign," he starts to laugh, "And they made me junior prom queen. And it was humiliating, but kind of awesome because I showed them all."

"Marched right up there and took his crown," Blaine adds proudly.

"Then Blaine transferred to McKinley our senior year because he's a puppy."

"If you're gonna insult me then I'm going to tell my story, if you don't mind," Blaine says with a dramatic sniff. Kurt grins and takes the camera from him. Kurt turns the camera on Blaine. He sits down on the park bench behind them and motions for Blaine to sit next to him. Blaine drops down and sits, cross-legged, on the ground in front of him instead.

"You are such a child," Kurt says fondly. Blaine sets his chin on Kurt's knee and blinks up at him innocently. The camera captures Kurt's hand reaching out to play with Blaine's curls. Blaine grins.

"Story time," he announces, and the pink glasses fall onto his nose lopsidedly. He makes no move to fix them, "So I knew I was gay when I was thirteen and Emily Pickerson—god, I hope she's not watching this—tried to kiss me. I remember, like, pulling back and going 'ew.' She started crying. I felt so bad." Blaine looks a little sad at the memory, and Kurt busts out laughing.

"It's not funny! She got all her little girlfriends against me and they put rotten eggs in my locker. I came out in middle school, and it didn't go too well. People sucked. It was nothing like what Kurt went through, not even close. But it was bad. So I transferred to Dalton my freshman. My parents were also so disgusted that they made me live in the dorms there. My parents? Not so accepting. Haven't even met Kurt yet, and they're not invited to the wedding. Just saying."

Kurt's hand stills, and then continues a few seconds later. "Um, yeah. And then I joined the Warblers—our glee club—and I became the soloist my sophomore year. Kurt transferred my junior year and the rest, they say, is history," he pauses, "Sorry, my story isn't as interesting as Kurt's."

Kurt snorts, "What, aside from the three Grammys and the number one spot on MTV for the fourth week in a row?"

"We're not here to brag, Kurt, gosh. This is about _helping_ people."

The camera shifts again as Blaine stands up and plops down next to—_on to_—Kurt and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. He takes the camera from Kurt and focuses it on the two of them. He smiles. "This is my boyfriend, my fiancé, and my best friend. The fame and crap? I don't care. This man? He's all I need. I'm not talking about the platinum records or whatever when I tell you that it gets better. Kurt Hummel is the reason my life is as amazing as it is."

Kurt discreetly wipes at his eyes and sniffs quietly. "It gets better. It really does. Especially if you meet dorky little hobbits who steal your heart and refuse to give it back."

Blaine beams and leans in to kiss him. When they pull back, Kurt takes Blaine's hand and then flashes his engagement ring to the camera. "It gets better," he says quietly.

With one last grin from Blaine and a watery smile from Kurt, the camera shuts off.

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><p><strong>another author's note<strong>: i was thinking of writing where santana and brittany make one. or maybe karofsky. ;D DRAMA BUS. let me know whatcha thinkin'.


	2. Brittany & Santana

**authors's note:** so here we are, a very long time after i posted the original oneshot, with a BRAND NEW CHAPTER! yes, yes, it's very exciting. for all of you who were anxiously awaiting the brittana chapter, wait no more. because here it is. i apologize for the shortness of it. i tried to make it longer, but this just felt right. i just couldn't get the wording more perfect, i'm not even kidding. this is exactly how i wanted it and i'm very proud of it. plus, do you really think santana would want to waste her time making a long ass video for a bunch of brats she'll never meet? she's got a heart in there somewhere, guys. (i seriously have the biggest girl crush on santana ever, though, and i'm very straight. boyfriend and everything.) OKAY, enough of me talking. just go read.

**disclaimer:** i don't own anything you recognize. the lyrics below belong to reliant k (seriously the cutest song ever, okay. go look it up; must have don't something right by reliant k.

**le tumblr: **i now officially have a tumblr, feel free to follow and/or stalk me. **http :/ guesssimwhaatsalwaayswrongg . tumblr . com /** (now you can actually bug me to update with the promised karofsky chapter) if for some reason it doesn't show up or maybe your're just too lazy to take out the spaces, there's a link of my profile.

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><p><em>you came along one day<br>and you rearranged my life;  
>all i gotta say is<br>i must've done something right._

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><p>The webcam flickers and the picture goes fuzzy. There's an annoyed huff and then the sound of a palm hitting plastic—"San, I don't think breaking the computer is gonna make him want to be nice to you."—before a pretty brunette appears on the screen. Her face is dangerously close to the tiny built-in camera. She squints.<p>

"Fucking laptop," She huffs, pulling away, "I knew we should've got the iPad 2 instead."

From off the screen, another voice says, confused, "But we have pads in the bathroom. They don't take pictures."

The young woman on the screen smiles softly, before sighing. "Brit, babe. Not _those_ pads. An iPad is a giant iPod," she explains patiently.

"_Oh_."

The brunette backs away from the screen. She pulls her best bitch face and says, "I honestly don't know why I'm doing this. Curly says helping people will be _good for me_," She looks disgusted by the thought.

"Dolphin!" the other voice yells excitedly. The woman on screen nods wordlessly, unfazed.

"Yeah, Britt, dolphin," She says, "I guess since none of you know who I'm talking about—well, they're like two of my close friends. Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel—they're both kind of famous. I've known them since high school," She looks smug, "I'm Santana, by the way," She adds offhandedly.

"I'm Brittany!"

An equally pretty blonde launches herself onto the bed behind Santana and latches onto the other girl's back. She stares at the camera, confused, and whispers, "Santana, who are you talking to?"

"We're making a video. Remember the one Kurt and Blaine showed us the last time we visited them?"

Brittany sighs, "Santana, they were talking to _us_ through the computer. There's nobody here."

"They were talking to the world—anyone who watches the video can hear them. Just like we're doing now," Santana says, and she sounds like she's trying not to laugh, "Remember in high school, before we were dating and you were with Artie? And I kept denying that I was in love with you," she takes Brittany's hand, and Brittany's face lights up, "Well, there are kids going through what we did. And there are kids getting pushed around like Kurt did. This video is supposed to give them courage," she says softly.

Brittany nods, and then turns determinedly to the camera. "Don't be sad anymore," she says quietly, "Because I was so sad when I couldn't be myself, and I know Santana was in a really bad place. I don't want you to go through that either, because it sucks," she nods resolutely, "It does. And don't let anyone push you around, either, cause they're just big bullies. They're scared. Don't be scared like them. Be you, okay?"

Satisfied, she leans against Santana, who seems to be in some sort of shock. "What she said," she adds weakly. She leans her head against Brittany's and they lock pinkies.

"Santana used to be sad," Brittany says seriously, "But now she's happy because she gets to be who she is. Our friend Finn accidently told everyone about her and she was mad for a while, but all of our friends came together to help her."

"Lady music week," Santana mumbles, dropping her head into her hands and looking embarrassed. Brittany pats her shoulder blankly. Santana sits up a little straighter and adds, "And to any of you who's going through the whole coming out thing, I know it sucks. My parents were real cool about it, but my Abuela flipped. Kicked me out, the whole nine yards. I had to stay with Brittany's family and live with that stupid leprechaun for a month, before she finally let me home."

"Rory was nice," Brittany says, almost defensively, "I mean, there was the whole pot of gold thing, but his accent was pretty hot." Santana frowns, but Brittany ignores her and turns back to the camera. "It gets better," Brittany says to the camera, and she smiles widely, "Maybe you'll meet your own Santana and you'll be happy forever, like me. I really hope you do."

Santana smiles softly, and her gaze is directed at Brittany as she says, "Don't let those assholes push you around. You deserve to be happy, just like anyone else. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," she looks straight into the camera, "Or I will find each and every one of you and kick your asses, understand?"

Brittany's giggle rings out in the empty room, and then Santana starts to laugh. The girls collapse into each other, tears streaming down their faces. Santana brushes a piece of hair out of Brittany's eye, and the grainy camera shuts off.


End file.
